


it's not gay if it's a three (four?) way

by ere_the_sun_rises (orphan_account)



Series: the solcrum-stone-aaronson love nest [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Morning Sex, Multi, Polyamory, Shameless Smut, Threesome - F/M/M, Vacation, dirty dirty dirty, this is utter filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:44:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3576612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ere_the_sun_rises
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steven's horny in the mornings. Andromeda likes scandalizing the elderly, and arranging group sex. Riley takes control.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's not gay if it's a three (four?) way

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [love nest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1959363) by [ere_the_sun_rises (orphan_account)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ere_the_sun_rises). 



> so, this threesome wouldn't leave me alone, and now i'm gonna do a series. feel free to leave me recommendations and prompts for what (or who) you'd like to see them do next. you can even tell me about your original trainer, and maybe we can have them meet andromeda, riley, and steven.
> 
> i'll arrange the series in chronological order, i think: as far as this goes, it's (obviously) set after love nest. i feel like riley's involvement with steven and andromeda is still fairly young in love nest, and here he's settled into their relationship more and feels a bit more confident in being with them.

When Andromeda rises, she pulls on the first available article of clothing she finds—it ends up being Riley’s turtleneck, flung over the corner of the table in the haste to disrobe the previous night.

The owner of said article is still quite asleep, half-pinned under Steven. Andromeda watches them and shakes her head. Riley will stay in bed all day, if they let him, and Steven pulling his usual Octillery isn’t going to help. They hadn’t gone on vacation to hide in the hotel room.

She leaves them alone, for now. Riley’s sweater is almost comically big on her—he’s taller than her to begin with, and lanky on top of that—if the collar had been open, it probably would have fallen off one shoulder; the sleeves completely engulf her hands, and the hem falls all the way to her mid-thigh.

Andromeda cozies into the pilfered garment, rubbing her nose in the fabric and inhaling her boyfriend’s scent. Quietly, she acquires a hot cup of green tea and pads out onto the porch, stretching. She hasn’t slept on tatami in years; it reminds her of nights spent with her cousins, all of them bundled together, whispering and giggling into the early hours of the morning.

To be fair, there’d still been whispering last night—though Andromeda seriously doubts that her cousins would be inclined to tell her what fantastic tits she had (Steven has a bit of a mouth on him, when the blood leaves his brain.)

Smiling, she sips at her tea—the warmth rushes through her in more ways than one, as she allows herself to recall the previous night’s activities. She shivers slightly against the early chill that’s present through most of the Johto Region: finishing her tea, she turns around with the intent to head back inside. On her way, she catches sight of an old woman peering out of her room. She stares at Andromeda, scandalized—they hadn’t exactly been quiet last night. Andromeda just smiles sweetly, and waves before she returns to their place.

As her eyes adjust to the relative dimness of the room, a soft, punched-out moan makes her stop and take notice. Blinking, she comes closer, setting her empty cup down on the table. “You started without me,” she remarks. She can’t really complain, not when the sight in front of her is so _delicious:_ Steven has Riley pinned below him, his bulk pressing him down in all the best ways. Riley seems to be enjoying it, if the way he’s baring his neck for Steven’s mouth is any indicator—as are the hazy look in his eyes, the way his flushed, swollen lips are parted to let out those helpless, keening sounds. Steven’s hand is nowhere in sight; hiding under the covers, and Andromeda can guess where it’s ended up when Riley jerks suddenly and groans.

“You know how… _nrgh_ —” Riley’s smart-aleck reply is cut off by a choked moan—Steven had obviously done _something_ with his hand, under the covers. “…how he, _hah_ , gets in the mornings.”

Andromeda quirks her eyebrow, sits down at the edge of the bedding and watches Steven make a ruffled, sweaty mess of their boyfriend. “Beings, _please_ ,” he pants, his flush arrowing down his chest: his brows draw together when he moans, again, and Andromeda decides to take pity on him at last.

“Steven,” she says, finally. He looks at her, gives Riley one last, teasing stroke before moving off. The covers are pulled off in the process, and Andromeda gives his dick a speculative look—red, throbbing, leaving a wet smear where it curved up against his stomach.

“Condom?” she asks Steven, without taking her eyes off of it—because it’s a pretty sight, really. A moment later, a foil square is pressed into her hand. She takes a moment to trail her fingers appreciatively over a forming bruise on the side of his neck. It’s a good thing Riley wears turtlenecks, because she and Steven both are guilty of marking him up.

She doesn’t tease (Steven already took care of that), is businesslike in rolling on the condom, and she grabs him around the base to hold him steady while she lowers herself onto him. Riley groans, hands flying to her hips and _squeezing_ —“Don’t move don’t move don’t move.”

Andromeda just shakes her head: breathlessly, she runs her hands down his chest, feeling the contained strength and the coarse, dark hair there. Not too much, but just enough to play with. His sharp intake of breath when she presses the pad of her thumb over his left nipple makes her grin, as does the twitch of him inside of her. “You’re wearing my shirt,” he notes, as his hands sneak up and under the hem.

“If _that’s_ what you’re noticing, then you’re probably not doing it right.” There’s a ragged edge to Steven’s voice—he’s propped up on his side, tugging leisurely on his cock.

“Since when are you the one to give pointers?” Riley retorts, and Steven just grins: all teeth, and it makes heat curl in Andromeda’s stomach. Riley notices the sudden rush of wet against his length, and his eyes come back to her, perched atop him. “You ready?” he asks, palming her hips.

Andromeda nods, too horny to trust herself with words at the moment. “Should I take it off?” she manages, fingers playing at the hem of his turtleneck.

Riley’s eyes darken. “Leave it on,” he murmurs, and Andromeda feels the shiver that goes through her. Her nipples tighten and she has to _move_ —Riley plants his feet on the mattress and wraps his hands around her thighs as she starts to ride him.

“Ancients, you two are a pretty picture,” Steven breathes. His breath is growing more and more ragged, the slide of his hand less and less measured—the head of his cock’s nearly purple now; disappearing with every upward stroke of his fist and popping out again when he drags his grip down. Andromeda would offer to help, but the only noise she seems capable of making at the moment is a high, breathy, cut-off moan. The waves of pleasure are coming in so quick that she doesn’t even have the time to fully vocalize one of them before the next one washes over her. Riley’s losing his rhythm, too; his hips jerk into her with a slick, wet sound—her knees wobble, and she grabs at his shoulder. He understands perfectly, flips her easily onto her back without ever sliding out of her.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Steven grits, echoing Andromeda’s sentiment perfectly, as Riley starts to piston in and out of her, knocking the air straight out of her and driving her closer to that precious peak. “Riley, touch her, come on, she’s so fucking close.” His hand’s flying now, and as soon as Riley complies Andromeda stiffens, gasping, and he comes with a long groan, painting his stomach and shivering as he sinks back into the mattress.

Riley grunts as she starts to squeeze around him—blanketing her body with his, he puts his mouth next to her ear: “Say my name.”

“Riley,” she gasps.

“Louder. Scream it.”

Andromeda whimpers, grabbing onto his arms and holding on for dear life as he pounds into her. Then, suddenly, he stops, pushing all the way into her and grinding his hips.

“I want you to come,” he says lowly, “And let this whole city know why you’re gonna be walking funny for a _week_.”

“Guar—” she chokes, and never has a chance to finish, because he pulls out and slams back in; once, twice. His thumb finds her clit, dragging through the mess of her slick, and his name’s dragged out of her like a litany, her fingers digging purple bruises into his upper arms. Her legs lock around his hips, her heels marking the swell of his ass for good measure, and it’s here that he gives up the fight, stills inside of her and whimpers as the fluttering of her around him finishes what Steven started.

Riley half-collapses on top of her, and rolls weakly off to the side, dragging a hand through his sweaty curls with a sigh.

Steven wriggles up next to his side. “I like it when you get dominant,” he murmurs, and kisses him, quick and dirty—then he departs, having somehow acquired the used condom, off to dispose of it.

While he’s gone, Andromeda snuggles up to Riley’s side, catching her breath and smiling when he leans down to kiss the top of her head, wrapping an arm around her side to pull her even closer. Steven returns only to drop unceremoniously next to Riley.

“Mm,” he sighs, reaching around Steven’s shoulders with his free arm. “Lucky me.” He doesn’t get to be the middle very often; Andromeda tends to hog the spot.

The three of them seem to sigh, contentedly, as one. “I do like it when you manhandle me,” Andromeda concedes, trailing her fingers over the hair on Riley’s chest.

“That was hardly _manhandling_ ,” he objects, eyes still closed. “I don’t have any idea what either of you are insinuating; I’m not some kind of shrinking violet.”

“No,” Andromeda agrees. “You’re…aggressive. Not kinky, though. Steven’s the kinky one. He likes to watch.”

Steven grins, shuffling onto his side and resting his head on Riley’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. Andromeda does the same, and her fingers tangle with his. For a while, they drift lazily in the early morning.

“We’re in Ecruteak,” Steven notes.

“Mmhmm,” Andromeda agrees.

“You know who else is in Ecruteak?”

“Who, Steven?” Riley mumbles, half-asleep.

“Morty.”

Andromeda nuzzles her face against Riley’s side. “Mm, didn’t you say something about Morty a while ago? Wouldn’t kick him out of bed?” She grins, lazily. “We should seduce him.”

“Too busy trying to summon Ho-oh,” Riley strokes her arm, hoping to encourage her to join his catnap.

“Then we appeal to his interests.”

“Rainbow lingerie?” Steven suggests.

“I was thinking more like…‘Hey, I’m the ho that’s going to make you go oh’…”

Steven starts to snicker, and Riley utters a long-suffering sigh, before he gathers the both of them close to him again. “Whatever we do, we’ll do it later. Sleep first.”

And, incredibly enough, the both of them settle enough that Riley _does_ get his nap, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> what will our fearsome threesome do next? will morty be seduced?
> 
> like i said above, please leave me prompts about these three in the comments. i'd love to hear your ideas ;)


End file.
